Your Reaction To My Action Is What I Want To See
by Who needs coordination anyways
Summary: A compilation of unrelated Chuck/Blair one-shots and drabbles. “Blair Waldorf couldn’t help but associate the taste of scotch with the words ‘Chuck Bass was here’ scribbled in permanent ink across her left palm.”
1. Marathon Runner

A/N: I've decided I need to start a compilation of my one-shots and drabble-like pieces of nonsense. Therefore this will be a string of unrelated one-shots/ pieces of drabble-like nonsense devoted to Chuck/Blair.

Disclaimer: The title of the compilation is a line from Jem's 'Come on Closer' and these characters are from Gossip Girl. Neither are mine no matter how hard I try.

This particular piece of drabble-like nonsense is titled 'Marathon Runner' and takes place while in the Hampton's.

* * *

**Marathon Runner**

Blair's eyes didn't even open as she heard the echoing splash over the side of the yacht. She sighed, at ease with the silence, as the sun reflected upon her already bronzed form.

"Waldorf!"  
Her freckled shoulders tensed as she attempted to ignore his call.  
"Hey, Waldorf!"  
Sitting up reluctantly she made her way to the edge of the railing towards the source of her aggravation.

Blair lifted an eyebrow at him and he smirked. "Are you not bothered by the fact that no one is currently steering the yacht?"

She cast an appraisal over the glaringly empty waters. "We're in your own private waters, moron, nobody needs to steer."

He waded comfortably as he squinted up at Blair. "Let me rephrase that. Are you not bothered that your _Captain_ is no longer on board?"

She leaned over the rail enticingly. "Actually Bass, I'm not."

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Well then if you don't mind, toss me something down so I can lounge in style."

Blair shot him a wicked grin as she grabbed a child's life-vest and threw it in his vicinity. He looked at it incredulously. "When I get back up there Waldorf..."

She widened her eyes and mockingly wiggled a finger at him. "Oh, I'm terrified." Blair shot him a dazzling grin and blew a kiss before twirling on her heel.

Her eyes had barely fluttered shut when she felt the water droplets trickling across her exposed skin. She sat up to see Chuck grinning above her lecherously. "Next time you should take into account that several hours of sex are equal to running a twenty mile marathon. You've actually been playing an integral role in my increased athleticism."

Blair rolled her eyes as she motioned towards the railing he had fallen over. "So, should we start avoiding horizontal surfaces as you run your marathons? Would that help improve your balance?"

He glowered at her as she cocked her head to the side and smirked.

* * *

A/N: You may be thinking, 'Where is Chuck's scarf in this formula?' All I have to say is how do you think he really got back up? Review please! And before I slink off in shame, I'm working on Training Wheels, I swear!

* * *


	2. The Association of Scotch

A/N: One of my classic one-shots with the line-breaks that get significantly shorter, I really don't know how that happens.

Disclaimer: Well, not mine, pretty much covers it all.

* * *

**The Association of Scotch**

Blair checked her phone again. She had waited approximately two hours longer than she was willing to wait for anyone else. The only exceptions she ever made were for Nate.

Grabbing a hold of her clutch she stood up and was aided in the act of slipping on her coat over slender shoulders. She flashed a perfected society-smile as she slapped down a tip for holding the table. No one in the five-star restaurant had once questioned when the second half of her party would be arriving.

Blair Waldorf was understandably none too pleased with Nathaniel Archibald.

On top of his failure to show up, this was the first time they were getting together for an actual date since both Serena and Harold had left. She felt the symbolism of Nate's abandonment on a simple dinner in retrospect to their relationship.

Blair had a tendency of seeing extremely dramatic, symbolic meanings while she was emotional.

Hailing a cab Blair briskly instructed the driver to the Palace Hotel. While she may have been stood up by everyone else in her life there was one person who was always willing to be an arrogant asshole for her. Walking through the doors with as much dignity as a girl who had just been stood up could possess, Blair walked the familiar path to the suite of Chuck Bass.

Once in front of the door she started off the process with a polite knock. Blair shifted her tactics to violent pounding when nothing drew his attention. She slammed her small fists against the door and in a final, desperate act shouted. "Bass! If you're ignoring me I hope you know I'm wearing spiked Manolo's. I will not hesitate to impale your lower region and claim it was self-defense! Open the damn door!"

She trailed off and whispered under her breath, "Please," as she let her head fall forward, the tears slipping out of the corners of her eyes. Blair hated crying in public but she figured that with her face pressed against a door in a deserted hall she was out of the generally defined "public".

Abruptly the door opened causing Blair to stumble forward into a smarmy boy whom she only sometimes admitted to being friends with. He raised an eyebrow at her as he drawled out. "Well if I had known that this is why you're here I would have answered the door sooner."

She shoved him away as she quickly blinked back her tears but he still caught sight of the sheen in her eyes. His smirk stayed in place but the jibe he had been ready to throw out next died on his tongue. Closing the door behind her Chuck let Blair try and regain her composure before asking. "Nathaniel didn't show?"

Sliding the coat off of her shoulders she threw it over the couch as she responded bitterly. "What do you think?"

He let his eyes roam over her as she walked back towards him and whistled. "Well I'm glad you didn't waste that outfit on Dorota. Nathaniel certainly missed out."

Blair let a small smile tug on her lips. She had made sure her appearance was flawless for the dinner. Her hair was in perfect ringlets held back by a satin ribbon while she was dressed in a shimmery, backless number from Dolce and Gabbana.

Eying up his supply of alcohol Blair lazily slipped off her previously noted Manolo's as she questioned Chuck idly. "When's the last time you've gotten drunk?"

Chuck lifted an eyebrow at her. "Waldorf, this is me you're talking to."

She let her hands run over the tops of the bottles as she rolled her eyes. "You may drink all the time but when's the last time you've gotten _drunk_."

He shrugged as he watched her pick up a bottle, or three. "Fair point. Are you trying to suggest that you would like for nothing more than to get piss-drunk with me this evening?"

Blair twisted the cap off of one of the bottles and wrinkled her nose, quickly screwing it back on and grabbing a different one in its place. "I didn't say that at all, but since you did; I'd love to Chuck."

Chuck smirked as he grabbed two glasses and placed them on the counter, letting her pour them to the brim with the drink of her choice. After they polished off the first glass easily he reached out and grabbed her arm to stop her from refilling. "Are you sure about this Waldorf? I don't want to wake up tomorrow having you yelling about how it was my fault that you prank called the Mayor."

Blair snickered loudly. "That only happened once, and besides that charity event was last year, I've already deleted his number from my phone."

Before Chuck could mention that she had still somehow found the situation to be his fault he was interrupted by a knock on the door. With a sigh Chuck nodded for Blair to pour another drink but she hesitated. "Did you already have plans tonight?"

He made a non-committal motion. "They're easily breakable."

Blair pointed towards the door. "Then you might want to answer that, unless it's Nate and then this situation could get extremely awkward for all three of us."

Chuck swiveled his stool around as he snorted. "Believe me, it's not Nate."

He threw the door open and Blair interestedly tried to peek at who was waiting outside. All she saw was long, peroxide-bleached hair and thigh-high leather boots. So Chuck had those sorts of plans for the evening. She couldn't help but admit to herself that she was flattered that Chuck had chosen her instead.

The interaction seemed to be taking longer than it should when the girl began to raise her voice. By this point Blair had determined the girl's name to be Paige. Slowly slipped off the chair and bringing the bottle of liquor with her she sidled up beside Chuck.

Throwing her arm around his neck Blair whined, "Come on baby, how much longer are you going to be!"

Peroxide Paige's eyes narrowed in on the brunette with the ruby-red lips as she crossed her arms indignantly. "_That's_ who you're spending the night with instead of _me_?"

Chuck was utterly incapable of taking Blair's actions into stride. She elbowed him in the ribs and he cleared his throat while trying his hardest not to smirk. He slipped his arms around her waist pulling her closer as he brought his lips against her ear. "I'll be there in a second, okay?"

Blair sighed noisily as she grabbed onto his collar and pulled his face closer. "Fine, fine!" She gave him a messy kiss on the cheek but her lips fell dangerously close to his mouth. They both froze for a moment before she pulled back and waved to the girl with a taunting glint in her eyes.

Chuck began to close the door before she could retaliate. "If you're not gone in three minutes I'll call security."

Blair stood beside him as they listened to her insulted stomps back down the hall. Turning with his eyebrows raised Chuck slipped his arm around her shoulder. "Well _baby_, start pouring."

She delicately removed herself from his reach as she rolled her eyes. "It got rid of her didn't it?"

Chuck smirked as he shot back. "And then some."

Blair gave him an irritated grimace as she refilled their glasses. "Promise that we're in this together."

He took his glass from the counter before teasing her. "Do you want me to cross my heart and kiss my elbow?"

She tried not to smile but he saw through her efforts nevertheless. Chuck had the strangest ability to both irritate her and draw her in, often simultaneously.

Blair sighed exasperatedly. "Is it clear that neither of us stops until we're both room-spinning, you're-my-best-friend, let's-laugh-even-though-nothing-is-funny type of drunk?"

Chuck nodded and even made the attempt to kiss his elbow.

An hour later and Blair was considerably tipsy whereas Chuck was only mildly. They had polished off a bottle and a half with Blair's taste governing the decisions. Chuck reached around until he found a bottle of his signature drink. "Have you ever tasted scotch?" he asked, as he sloshed the liquid into her glass.

Blair stared at the scotch in bewilderment. It was something she had never considered, an aspect that was so irrevocably Chuck that she had never thought to drink it. She knew it would taste like him and it was that reason that made her suddenly want it.

She shook her head exaggeratedly as she giggled out. "No, but I bet I know what it's like. It tastes like-." Before she finished the sentence she took a sip and then started giggling even more. "And I was right."

Chuck poured himself a glass and cocked his head to the side. "Does that mean you like it?"

Blair raised her finger above her head before poking him in the chest for emphasis. "It tastes like you. I like it."

Finding himself at a loss for words Chuck silenced the hazy thoughts she had prompted by polishing off his own scotch. Blair absently twirled the glass between her hands before taking another sip and grinning at him.

Another hour passed and it was safe to say that both Chuck and Blair had enough alcohol running through their veins that Serena at her worst would have been impressed.

Currently Blair Waldorf stood inside Chuck Bass' closet shimmying into a pair of his grey and blue striped boxers to match the patterned, navy-blue sweater she had discovered. Pushing the door open, Blair clomped into view to show off the outfit, including his scarf, along with the pair of loafers she had also color coordinated with the ensemble.

Chuck was already wearing the clothing she had picked out for him; a pair of crimson red, polka-dotted boxers with a pink sweater and matching socks. She grinned proudly as she struggled in the loafers to stand beside him in the mirror. "See? We match because this shade of navy goes _perfectly_ with that shade of pale pink."

He nodded approvingly and then grabbed onto her arm as she nearly stumbled out of the shoes.

Blair righted herself then staggered back over to the couch. She couldn't quite remember what had happened since she came over to Chuck's suite but she knew she was having a good time.

Chuck lurched himself down next to her and they both laughed as one of the cushions got dislodged. Reaching for the remote Chuck turned the television on and frowned when he realized C-SPAN was on. He tried changing the station but couldn't seem to find the right buttons; he did however manage to change the tint several times.

Blair grabbed the remote from him. "No! Keep this on. I love to watch the relays!"

Chuck looked from the T.V. back to Blair who was intently staring at Government officials walking around a conference room. "I'm putting money down that the green tie is going to win."

At this statement Chuck forgot what station he had turned on and scoffed. "He will not! The yellow tie is ahead of him."

Blair scooted to the edge of the seat and squinted at the screen. "No way! Look at green tie. He's way in the front!"

Chuck put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head pityingly. "For now, but see how he's slowing down? You can't pick a cheetah, sweetheart; you've got to go for the antelope."

She looked at him uncomprehendingly before getting up and struggling towards the bar. "I'll keep track of who is winning." Picking up a permanent marker she grabbed a pile of napkins and sat back down.

In the end yellow tie won and Blair pouted as she complained. "But he was in the lead!"

Chuck smugly waved the napkin in her face with the winning outcome. "Apparently not!"

Blair continued sulking before reaching over Chuck for the phone and missing. She instead found herself staring at Chuck Bass' left palm. She dissolved into a fit of laughter as she lifted it for him to see. Emblazoned on his hand in permanent ink were the loopy words, 'Blair Waldorf was here.'

They both stared for a while trying to figure out when that encounter had occurred when Chuck grabbed for Blair's hand. On her left palm was his recognizable scrawl stating, 'Chuck Bass was here'. Completely amazed they stared at their hands for an interminable amount of time before Chuck said matter-of-factly, "You were here."

Blair smiled widely as she patted him on the cheek. "You better believe it buddy."

Silence enveloped the room before Blair recalled why she had been reaching for the phone. "I'm hungry, Chuck."

He grabbed the phone and after staring at the numbers blankly pushed the button for room service. He shoved it towards her as it rang. "Get whatever you want sweetheart, but make sure, this is important! Make sure you get pancakes with maple syrup, with the syrup!"

She nodded earnestly while repeating his words, "Syrup! Maple Syrup!"

An attendant answered and Blair began to list off the most ridiculously complicated order of food on earth. "No, I said I wanted the fruit blended on high with fat-free yogurt and a mixture of real strawberries, mangoes, papaya, bananas, kiwi _and_ frozen ones not _just_ frozen! Are you deaf? And pulp-free orange juice, pulp-free! Not extra-pulp! I hate pulp."

Chuck grabbed the phone from her to interject his two-cents. "All the pancakes have to be in the shape of Mickey Mouse."

Blair's eyes widened as she shrilled. "I love Mickey Mouse! Oh and syrup! Maple syrup! Chuck, you forgot about the syrup! And I want- "

A loud ringing began to sound causing Chuck to get up and stagger towards his cell phone. "Hello? Chuck Bass is speaking to you," he slurred out.

Nate frowned as he listened to his friend, it was near midnight and he sounded drunk out of his mind. "Hey man. Having fun?"

Chuck pulled the phone from his face to see that the caller id read 'Nathaniel' before responding. "Oh yeah, wait hold on. Honey, I want breadcrumbs on that too."

Nate shook his head in resignation. Chuck was most definitely drunk. The telltale signal was when he began substituting names with terms of endearment. "Do you want me to call tomorrow? I didn't think you'd be busy, normally they're out by midnight."

Pursing his lips Chuck's eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Who is out?"

Nate wasn't sure if he liked the role of 'quick-wit' when he was bequeathed it. "The girls Chuck, whatever girl you have over. But I just heard you talking to her so I can call you tomorrow, okay?"

Blair hung up the phone and turned to her companion. "They said that the food would be up soon. That girl was really slow, you should fire her. Who's on the phone?"

Chuck hesitated, he felt like there was a reason Blair was here tonight but he couldn't quite grasp it. "So I should hang up now before she grabs the phone."

Nate waited for something else to happen when he heard a very familiar feminine voice. "You stood me up! And guess what Natie? I had scotch tonight and I _liked_ it."

There was something ominous in the way she spoke, making it sound like a warning. Nate was suddenly seized with a twisted desire to have Blair drunkenly cheat on him so his actions with Serena would be negated.

Chuck pulled the phone back, somewhat sobered by her words. "Don't you worry Nathaniel; while you two are together, you don't need to worry."

Those words too came out strangely. Another warning that Nate didn't care to notice. He was left with a heavy feeling that Chuck knew something more than he was telling. Now his desire to hang up was intensified so he hurriedly ended the conversation hoping Chuck had no idea of the weight of his statement.

Blair rested her chin in her hand as she stared at him dazedly. "I hope they got our order right."

The next morning Chuck Bass awoke to the sound of a toilet flushing. He watched in confusion as Blair Waldorf walked out of the bathroom seconds later; her hair in disarray and clad in the strangest outfit he had ever seen on her.

She walked over to the bed where he was lying and threw herself down next to him. "Why are we wearing your closet rejects?" she mumbled into the bed sheets.

Chuck then looked down and saw he was wearing a matching outfit to hers. He rubbed at his temples and looked around his suite. There were empty plates all over the place and he could faintly hear, "The treaty was welcomed by the underdeveloped companies-", coming from the television.

* * *

Blair was on her bed flipping through Vogue and absently attempting to try that Swiss Pin-Braid from page one-hundred and seven when Dorota nervously entered the room. "Miss Blair, I know you said to tell anyone you are out but could you come downstairs?"

She sighed as she let go of the twisted strands of hair. "Dorota, you have to firm about this. I swear if Kati and Is are down there asking me to go to Butter again, I'll pretend to faint and have you fake dial 911."

Blair got to her feet and followed Dorota down the stairs to see Chuck Bass standing against the wall beside the elevator. He gave a small smirk before pushing the button to call the contraption back. "I hadn't realized you were so opposed to visitors, I'm just leaving."

She shook her head as she hurried down the last few stairs. "No! You can stay."

Blair felt her face get warmer at the urgency in her voice and the cocked eyebrow he raised at her. "Considering that you aren't Kati and Is asking me to go to Butter for the _eleventh_ time this week, you're perfectly welcome."

He motioned towards the stairs questioningly and she nodded and mouthed a grudging 'Thanks' to Dorota who was watching her with a self-satisfied smile. She closed the door to her room before sitting down on the bed and watching him carefully.

His behavior seemed off. She didn't have to wait long for him to sit uninvited on her bed and pull out a bottle of scotch from underneath his coat. "My mom called."

He didn't say anymore than that and he didn't need to. She pushed the Vogue onto the floor as she sat cross-legged. "What are we kissing our elbows for tonight? Or were you planning on distracting yourself other ways?"

Chuck smirked, regaining some of his stride as he answered her. "I can vividly recall when I chose your company over that of 'those other ways' so you shouldn't sound so doubtful."

Blair snorted at this. "_Vividly_ recall?"

He laughed as he conceded with her. "Alright, maybe the correct adjective would be vaguely but I remember it as a whole. The fact that both of us were amiably conversing come morning was proof it was a good night. I've heard I'm a disagreeable drunk and I know for a fact that you're not much better so we must have done well. Plus, I'm finding the memories much easier now that I have these."

He tossed a rubber-banded stack to her and Blair reached for it curiously. There was a series of pictures from a disposable camera, all from that night. She couldn't even remember taking any pictures. Chuck peered over her shoulder and tapped the one she had just flipped to. "That one is probably my favorite."

Dressed in their horrific matching sweaters Blair had her arm slung around Chuck's neck while Chuck had his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her off the ground. Both of them had equally wide grins and their left palms showing off the message they had penned on the other.

She laughed as she held it out for further inspection. "This may be one of the rare photos I have of you smiling."

Chuck shrugged. "Maybe, I try not to, it gives a bad impression."

She looked up at him in amusement. "In what way?"

He opened the scotch bottle slowly as he answered. "Well if you see someone smiling you assume you can easily talk to them. I don't want to talk to people. As a whole I can say that I strongly dislike people. Therefore by not smiling I eliminate all of that."

Blair wrinkled her nose as she pointed out. "You smile all the time."

Chuck shot her an exasperated look. "Not in public."

She sighed as she nodded. "True but I still talk to you even when you don't smile and so does Nate and Ser-", she cut off quickly.

His eyes flickered to her face and let the flash of pain pass through her. "You tend to talk and smile with friends Waldorf."

Blair pushed aside her slip-up as she smirked suddenly. "We're friends? I thought we were just acquaintances through my boyfriend and your best-friend."

Chuck narrowed his gaze on her as she patted his shoulder patronizingly. "Blair, go ahead and delude yourself otherwise but even Dorota has picked up on it."

She dropped her hand and grabbed the bottle from him. "I know, it just sounds weird. We used to sort of see each other before but now we're at each others places all the time. The people would certainly be scandalized. Do you want glasses for this?"

He raised his eyebrows at her. "What? 'Oh, hello Dorota, Chuck and I needed something to drink the water from my bathroom sink from'?"

Blair tried not to laugh but couldn't help it. "Okay, fine, we'll be disgusting and both drink straight from the bottle. You better not give me an STD."

Chuck grinned as he took the first go. "I make no promises."

She took the scotch from him and sipped lightly. He watched her as she handed it back. "Just to clarify, this isn't in the same category as our last excursion. This is a one bottle deal to relax."

Blair cocked her head to the side as he took another gulp. "So more of a let's-loosen-up, you're-my-friend-for-real, we'll-only-laugh-when-something-_is_-funny, sort of drunk?"

He snorted as he lied back on her bed, his head resting beside her knee. "Yeah, Waldorf, that sort."

Waking up startled, Blair looked around her room blearily. Chuck was stumbling sleepily towards her blinds to block the sunlight. He fell back down next to her, slightly on top of her but she was too comfortable to move.

Raising her hand up to brush the hair out of her face Blair saw a dark shadow on her hand. With further inspection she read, 'Chuck Bass was here'. She pulled his hand up and saw her own message on him as well and he lifted his head lazily.

"No offense Waldorf, but I'm not entirely comfortable with hand-holding whether we're friends or not."

Blair rolled her eyes and pointed to the words, causing him to smirk and lay his head back down beside hers.

* * *

Blair Waldorf couldn't help but associate the taste of scotch with the words 'Chuck Bass was here' scribbled in permanent ink across her left palm. So when she woke up with the flavor in her mouth she was surprised to find that the words weren't there. The taste lingered on her rather than settling.

Lying back down she sighed when abruptly the fragments began to flash beneath her eyelids. Hands sliding along shoulders, straps slipping down, the sighs and moans, buttons coming undone, fingers tangled in tousled locks, and above it all the taste of scotch.

The scalding intensity of his mouth had imprinted the taste of him into her.

Blair desperately checked her left palm once more. Whether the words were written out for her or not they were still there. Last night they had both told each other what invariably went along with their scotch.

Blair suddenly didn't find 'Chuck Bass was here' as innocent as it used to be as she thought of her body entangled with his. She struggled to think that she had also infused Chuck with 'Blair Waldorf was here'; but he was painfully aware of the branding.

* * *

Blair walked slowly and evenly, her vision faintly obscured by the pale veil covering her face. She reached the altar and turned towards her fiancé. They reached for each others hands, pressing their palms flush together letting the permanent ink blend together.

Blair's hand was scrawled with the same words he always wrote, but his palm now read, 'Blair Bass was here'.

* * *

A/N: Well that was painfully long for all of you. I have to stop with these flashbacks to Victrola. Review please! If I had any control of Chuck Bass I would send him to my reviewers armed with the permanent marker.


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